A Rather Odd Turn of Events
by BookmanJr
Summary: It had not been a good day for Elizabeth Kirkland. First her best friend dragged into town, then she ran into a frog, an idiot Spaniard, and then was kidnapped. This day just couldn't get any worse, could it.  First story up here, please review.
1. Chapter 1

Elizabeth Kirkland- England

Marcelo Estavao Fernandes Cordeiro-Portugal

Francis Bonnefoy- France

"word"- speaking— '_word'- _thought— "_word" _–translations—any other italics is for emphasis or sarcasm.

**Chapter One: Of Frogs, Portuguese Knights in Shining Armour, and Very Annoyed Brits**

Elizabeth Kirkland knelt in the back garden of her small cottage, surrounded by rose bushes and lavender plants. The air was filled with the sound of bees buzzing through the air, the quiet chirping of birds in the woods behind the back fence, the scratching of chalk and… language that would make a sailor blush. Elizabeth's long dark blonde hair was pulled back in a long braid, falling over her shoulder as she sketched a large circle on the ground.

She knelt in the centre, surrounded by several concentric circles, radiating out from where she sat, writing quickly in Celtic runes around the innermost circle. Sitting back, she observed her work with a small smile and a nod of approval.

Elizabeth was proud of her magic. She was good at it, so long as no imbeciles interrupted her, but that was true for everyone. Her own mentor, a powerful, very skilled warlock called Garrick, had made a very severe mistake once when page had interrupted him, Garrick had summoned a swarm of rather annoyed wasps instead of a flock of birds. Garrick was not amused.

She stood up, brushing the dirt off her knees, when she heard a call from the front of the house.

"Oi! Artur! Você está aí? _Oi, Arthur! You here?_" She tensed up, before recognising it as her Portuguese friend, Marcelo Estavao Fernandes Cordeiro, known otherwise as Marco.

Clearing her throat, she called back "Eu estou no jardim! _I'm in the garden!_" Her voice was deeper and sounded like a young man's. Marco opened the tall gate and ducked under the arbour until he was level with her.

"Hey, Liza," he smiled giving her a hug. She smiled. She always felt comfortable around him. And he was one of the few people who actually knew her as Elizabeth Kirkland and not as Arthur Kirkland, the twenty-year-old wizard with a fiery temper and… well, rather large eyebrows. (Not her fault! For some reason, she always had those monstrosities on her face as Arthur!) Marco knew her before she discovered her talent with magic and helped her every step of the way to become the first ever, fully qualified female wizard. Yes, she had to cross-dress, perform a spell to change her appearance every morning she went to the Academy, but it was worth it.

Marco grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the house. "Might I inquire as to _where the hell are we going?_" She snapped, trying to pull her arm back, to no avail.

"We are going to get you out of the house, that's where we're going." Marco beamed at her over his shoulder. "But, before that, we are going to get you out _looking like a girl_!" And, ignoring all Eliza's protests, dragged her into her house.

"I hate you, Marcelo. I really do."

"I love you too, Lizzy!"

"I've told you before, Marco, _don't. Call. Me. _Lizzy!"

Marco and Eliza walked down the high street, Marco holding onto Eliza's hand to prevent her from running back to her house. Eliza was pouting, using her free hand to pull down the hem of her skirt, and trying to ignore the looks guys were giving her. '_This is so humiliating! I forgot how awful these guys are to girls!' _Eliza thought, edging closer to Marco when she noticed a man smirking and looking her up and down.

"Marco, can I please go home? Men are looking at me oddly," Eliza muttered. Marco looked around and, for what seemed to be the first time, noticed how people were looking at his friend. He glowered darkly, a frown quickly replacing his normally cheery smile.

Instead of answering her, he instead put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side, glaring at anyone who looked at Eliza wrong. She looked up at him, surprised by the move, but didn't attempt to remove his arm and leaned into him slightly instead.

The two walked down the high street like that for some time, before Marco suddenly pulled her into the main square, where the weekly market was. Eliza protested briefly, but gave in. _'I did plan to come here this week anyway…' _she thought.

The Market was the highlight of the year, only lasting from spring to early fall, and dominated the city. The sound of musicians playing on the small stage erected next to the fountain in the centre of the square could be heard several streets away and the scent of spices, roasted nuts, fruits, and meats covered the other smells of the busy town. Eliza personally loved it, though she often had to make two trips during a single day; one as Arthur, when she bought the supplies needed for any particular spell or summoning she was working on, and one as Eliza, when she could do her shopping as a bookkeeper. It got tiring, but a girl had to answer too many question if she went to Market for magic goods. So, she just dealt with it.

Marco, despite being the older one of the two, was the one who kept running around from stall to stall, dragging Eliza along by her hand. She tried as hard as she could to act annoyed, but she really was enjoying her day out with Marco and slowly began to laugh and smile along with him. Eliza began to lead the way sometimes, pulling Marco along when something caught her eye.

Just as she finished paying for a small bag of toffees to share between the two of them, she turned and walked into the person behind her, knocking her off balance and almost to the ground. Eliza gasped, trying to put her hands out in time to break her fall, but felt an arm catch her shoulder and waist, and pulled up to her feet. She looked up to see who had stopped her fall.

Eliza felt her blood freeze and the colour rush to her cheeks. _'Of all the people in this town, it had to this git,'_ she thought.

Her 'saviour' was none other than the most annoying person she knew, Francis Bonnefoy. He wasn't a wizard, just a common sailor in the Naval Academy. Well, ok, so common sailor is a bit of an understatement. He was incredibly talented with swordplay, was in fact a Commander in the Royal Navy and liked to bother Arthur for… well, anything he could think of, really. Like, 'his' height, eyebrows, messy hair… Anything.

"Pardonnez-moi, mademoiselle. Are you all right?" Francis asked, concern written across his face. Eliza didn't know what to do with that unfamiliar look on his face aimed at her. Usually he looked at her like she… er, _he _was something to pity, rather than worry about. She nodded mutely and tried to gently pull herself out of his grip. Francis resisted slightly, but eventually let go. He leaned close to her face, closer than she felt at all comfortable with. His blue eyes looked between her own venomous green ones, almost like he was searching for something in them.

"Um… Sir?" Eliza asked and Francis seemed to jerk out of his reverie.

"You must excuse me, but you look much like someone I am quite fond of." Francis rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit embarrassed. Eliza raised one blonde eyebrow (not thick, thank you very much. Only Arthur had the thick ones… they rather helped with keeping Eliza and Arthur separate) as if to say 'Oh, yes?' Francis nodded. "Yes. A wizard-in-training. He's such a spitfire, I love it." An odd, wistful expression came over his face. "He's so much fun to tease and his reactions are hilarious, especially to jibes about his eyebrows. Ses sourcils! Ils sont énormes!- _His eyebrows! They're enormous!_" He chuckled to himself, smiling and not seeing the horrified expression spreading simultaneously across Eliza's. _'Good god…He's talking about me! Shite! Where's Marco!' _Francis kept talking about his dear friend, Arthur, whilst Eliza tried to keep her panicking in check. _'Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm and carry on, you can survive one conversation with him can't you, Elizabeth Rose Kirkland? No, who am I kidding, I'm going to want to die when I see him at the Academy!' _

Just at the moment when Francis seemed to have _finally _noticed that Eliza's face had gone pale and her eyes were unfocussed, a Portuguese 'knight-in-shining-armour' (or, that's what he had called himself later when the two of them were talking over what happened that day) came to save an English 'damsel-in-distress' (a term Eliza contests with every fibre of her being) from a Froggy Bastard (a term no one apart from Francis would object to using) arrived. Marco draped himself over Eliza's shoulder, interrupting Francis in mid-sentence, with a loud "Lizzy! Aí está você! _There you are_!"

Eliza jumped at the distraction and tried to pry Marco off, while griping "Dwi'n nid Lizzy! Sawl gwaith y mae'n rhaid i mi ddweud wrthych cyn iddo fynd trwy y benglog trwchus o chi! _I'm not Lizzy! How many times do I have to tell you before it goes through that thick skull of yours!_"

As neither of them spoke Welsh, Marco and Francis both just stared blankly at Eliza, before saying "Huh?" at the same time.

Eliza wanted to scream.

"Anyway, mademoiselle, it was my pleasure to make your acquaintance," Francis purred, practically, taking Eliza's hand and kissing the back of it with a wink. Marco glowered at him, but his protective nature wasn't needed as Eliza snatched her hand back, giving Francis a poisonous glare. "I hope we shall meet again, Mademoiselle _Lizzy._" He smiled like a fox, tipped his hat to her and ducked into the crowd before Eliza could hurl an insult at him.

She shook her head. _'Meeting again? I don't think so, frog. I doubt you will ever see Eliza again.' _

_Author's note:_

_Yes! I finally got around to writing down the first chapter of a story that's been bouncing around in my head for a while now. _

_If there are any mistakes (which wouldn't be a surprise) with the Portuguese or Welsh, PLEASE let me know so I can fix it. I used a decent online translator, but I wouldn't be shocked if it was wrong,_

_Please review and criticise! Thanks to my fantastic proofreader, TigerToa! You're awesome!_

_The second chapter is written, but it's in TigerToa is looking through it right now, so it should be up fairly soon._

_About Marcelo- get used to him; he's probably going to show up in every chapter. I know, I know, OC's are very hard to stop from turning into Mary Sues or Gary Stues, but I shall endeavour to do so! And, as Portugal and England have historically had good relations, I imagine that the two of them get along quite well. _


	2. Chapter 2

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo- Spain

Tino Väinämöinen- Finland

Lina Oxenstierna- nyo!Sweden

Al and Mattie- America and Canada

**Chapter Two: of Realisations, Faeries, and Warnings**

After watching Francis walk away, Eliza turned back to Marco. "Anything you particularly wanted to do today?" She asked brushing off her clothes of any dust. Marco didn't say anything, just looked hard at her. "What?"

"You didn't punch his face in. There are only a few people I can think of who can get away with touching you that much. And _he" _Marco pointed at Francis' retreating back, "is not one of them. Only your brothers, maybe your cousins Al and Mattie, and I can touch you without you either strangling, hitting, or otherwise causing bodily harm." Eliza blushed and opened her mouth to argue, but stopped. Now that she thought about it, he was right. If it had been anyone else here at the Market, save Marco, she would have slapped them or punched them in the stomach for trying to touch her like that, let alone kissing her hand.

That was a pretty horrible realisation. Somehow, the frog had made his way onto her short list of people she would let touch her at all.

_'Damn.'_

The thought that- that _froggy bastard _has somehow wormed his way past her defences, even while he had been insulting her, as Arthur, in everyway he could think of worried Eliza. '_If he did that by being an arse to me, what's going to happen if he acts nicely?'_

Marco put a hand on her arm, jerking her from her reverie. "Eliza, I know you're probably panicking, but I promise you this. If he does _anything _untoward to you, I will kick his ass from here to Hell and back again. Then I will tell your brothers about it." She stared. That he would exact revenge on Francis on her behalf wasn't news to her; he had always been this way. The first time they'd met, when they were seven, Marco had told off a Dutch boy for picking on Eliza.

_"Hey! Limey! What're you doing here? You're a girl! Girls can't do anything here!" Lars sneered, glaring at Eliza._

_ "Sod off, Lars!" She spat back. "I bet you I can do anything better than you, wanker!"_

_ "Oh really? I'd like to see you try!" He snarled, lip curling. He picked up a stick and tossed it at Eliza, who scrambled to catch it. He took another one and lunged at her, swinging it at her. _

_ Eliza yelped, leaping back, before growling deep in her throat and bringing up her own stick to block his. They went on like this, Lars's attacks coming more and more quickly, forcing her to keep backing up, until Eliza was just barely able to block him and her back was to the fence around the school._

_Marco had been watching the events for last few minutes, trying to decide when he should intervene. When he saw Lars tugging the stick from Eliza's hand, grabbing her wrist, and shoving her back against the fence. Eliza struggled, kicking at him, trying to push him away. Marco started moving before he even realised he had. He found himself standing next to Lars, placing a hand on his shoulder._

"_What are you doing? It's not nice to hit a girl," Marco smiled, but it certainly wasn't a friendly one. "I think you should stop, Lars."_

"_Ah, but I don't want to, Marcelo." Lars's grip on Eliza's wrist tightened and she struggled harder still, before she kneed him in the crotch. Eliza sprinted away from Lars, who was kneeling on the ground, curled over in agony. Marco then slammed his fist into Lars's stomach, winding the boy, before saying in a light voice, "I told you it's not nice to hit a girl. They often have strong boys to protect them."_

_He'd then taken Eliza's hand and walked her home, where her brothers, Iain, Sean, and Gwydion, were panicking because their 'wee baby sister' or the 'wee bairn of a lassie' hadn't come home on time. It took quite some time for Eliza to assure them that she was fine and that Marco was a friend, not some creeper (never mind that he was also seven) determined to harm their little sister. _

Ever since that day, Marco had protected her, though Eliza did improve her skills in self-defence. The longer she knew him, the more she saw of that protective side of him; he was protective of his cousin, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who was quite frankly an idiot, though he was a well-meaning idiot.

Speaking of Antonio, he came up behind Marco and threw his arms around his cousin's neck shouting, "_Hola _Marco! ¿_Como estás?" _Marco smiled faintly, before pulling his cousin gently off his back.

"I'm fine, Tonio. But why are you here, anyway? I thought you were still in Roma with that group from the Academy." Antonio grinned.

"They gave me leave to come back here after my Lovinita went missing. I miss her soooooooo much!" Antonio whined, looking quite pitiful. Marco raised an eyebrow at the word 'Lovinita' and gave Antonio a long look. "Ok, so they didn't _quite _give me leave. They sent me back after I threatened to leave the Navy if they didn't allow me to go look for her."

"Wait a tic, you threatened the Navy, and they actually listened to you?" Eliza found this a little hard to believe, but Antonio nodded.

"_Sí,_ they know that my skills are awfully hard to replace."

Eliza only stared at him for a moment, before deciding that it was best to just leave it be. Ignoring both of the young men who stood next to her, Eliza started wandering towards the local park. It was only a few minutes away, so she figured she could make it to the park, have a nice quiet stroll, and come back before the two of them were down gossiping, a term both of them would deny later, but seriously. They were.

Tugging down the hem of her skirt, she hummed a tune as she walked along. The noise from the Market slowly started to fade as the park came closer. Sighing softly, Eliza entered the park through tall iron gates and stepped onto the shifting gravel pathway. The weak sunshine warmed the paths, the light filtering through the leafy trees, tinted everything in a soft green light. Glancing around her as inconspicuously as possible, Eliza ducked off the trail and into the thick woods to the left of it.

She moved quickly through the branches, moving ever deeper into the forest. Finally, after a few minutes of ducking and gently brushing aside limbs, she stepped into a small clearing, drenched in sunlight. A smile spread on her face, as remembering her first visit here with her second eldest brother, Sean, took her there to show her the faeries who dwelt in the woodlands, who no one else she had ever met could see.

Eliza moved into the centre of the glade before she called out "Hello? It's me; I'm back…" Immediately, a dozen or so faeries flew out of the trees, beaming once they saw her. They flew over to her, bombarding her with questions, whilst pulling on her hair gently, and landing on her shoulders and head.

"Eliza!"

"Liz!"

"You're back!"

"How's the Academy?"

"Is everyone kind to you? You know we'll punish them if they're not."

Laughing, Eliza gently brushed them from her hair. "No, no, everything is fine. Marco is still the only one who knows I'm Arthur, so don't worry."

"How are your brothers?" Asked a deeper voice from behind her. Eliza turned sharply, before smiling. The voice belonged to Melody who, despite what his name indicated, was in fact a male unicorn with a bit of a testy side.

"Iain is still at sea, Sean's pub is doing well, but he keeps nagging me to come by. Gwydion is still out in the highlands with his sheep. Gwyd mentioned that he'll be back in town come summer. Peter is still a brat, but I think he's happy living with Tino and Lina. He didn't want to commute back and forth for weekends and we can't afford room and board, so those two are such a lifesaver."

Melody nodded solemnly. "I'm glad to hear that you're all well, Elizabeth." He gave her a stern look after a moment of silence. "You must be careful. I've heard that Frenchman talking about Arthur on walks before. Those two friends of his, the albino and the idiot, keep encouraging him to 'get on with it.'" Here Eliza blushed, looking partially mortified, partially embarrassed. "I'm not sure what they are urging him to, but be careful, lass; I don't trust him."

"Thanks, Melody. I appreciate the concern, but I think I can handle this." Melody gave her a long look. "Really. And, besides, if I need any help, I know I can rely on you all, Marco, and my brothers."

The faeries, however, also gave her stern looks.

"Really, Liz. Be careful. The last thing we want is for you to be hurt."

"Ok, all right. I'll be careful, don't worry." She paused, hearing the clock chime half past. "I better go; I don't want Marco to worry that I was kidnapped or something." She waved goodbye to her friends, before turning and leaving the clearing.

_Author's Notes:  
><em>_Sweet! Second chapter done! I've settle on updating this story around the end of every week. So look for updates around thursday or friday. __Thank you so much to those who favourited my story! I loved gettung updates in my inbox about it. It really made me smile. So, thank you! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and I hope you review! _


	3. Chapter 3

Gilbert Beilschmidt- Prussia

**Chapter Three: Of Kidnappings, Missing Brits, and Worried Friends**

Eliza fell back against the sofa; the day had been quite busy, especially for an introverted student masquerading as a man most of the time. After she met back up with Marco, who luckily hadn't noticed her wander off to speak to the faeries as he had been too occupied talking (ok, more like listening to and trying to get a word in edgewise) with Antonio, the two of them had slowly made their way back to her house.

Eliza sighed, reaching over to the table for the mug of tea she left there. It was about the only thing Eliza could be trusted with making, according to… well, to everyone, actually (in fact, there was only one person who made worse food than her- Iain. His food was downright _lethal_). Which was why Marco was in the kitchen making supper for them. His food was quite good, there was no denying that, but he never remembered to tidy up afterwards, so Eliza always ended up cleaning up after him.

Marco stuck his head out the kitchen door and called "Food's ready!" Eliza stood up from the sofa, taking her cup of tea with her and trudged into the kitchen. She had changed out of the fashionable outfit Marco had chosen for her and pulled on one of Gwyd's old football jerseys (he was the only one of her older brothers who actually _washed_ his jersey after games and not at the end of the season) and a pair loose-fitting sweatpants. She sat down at the kitchen table under the window looking out over the back yard, while Marco took the plates to the table. They ate slowly, talking and laughing until their plates were empty, and glasses drained. The sun was setting when Marco left.

"See you tomorrow; I'll walk you to school," Marco offered, standing on the front stoop.

"That's not necessary, Marco. I'll meet you at the gate, ok." Marco looked like he thought about objecting, but just nodded.

"See you later, then. Good night." He stepped off, waving once he reached the small gate, and walked away. Eliza waved back and stayed in the doorway until he was out of sight. Then, with a small sigh, she turned and walked back inside. She set about cleaning off the table when she looked into the yard and saw the circle she had been working on this morning when Marco had come and dragged her away from her work.

Grumbling, she left the dishes on the table, slipped on a light jumper, and stepped outside to finish up the circle. The evening air was warm, but with the edge that suggested a cooler night later. Standing the centre of the circle, Eliza took a deep breath to begin the spell, when a sudden noise made her pause. Without a second thought, she switched to Arthur. Better for Arthur to be seen standing in a magic circle at night than for Eliza.

He froze, listening for any other sounds, apart from the rustling of the trees in the wind. All was silent. Not even the wind ruffled his hair.

Arthur couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was wrong; something felt off. Turning slowly on the spot, he narrowed his eyes, so similar to Eliza's, trying to spot any movement.

Then, all at once, something crashed into the back of his head, knocking him to the ground, unconscious. Three people stood over his prone figure, staring down at him.

"Are you sure this is the one?" Asked the tallest one.

"No, not really, but we're running out of options, aren't we." Responded the middle one, kneeling down to roll Arthur over onto his back.

"Well, let's get moving. We've got a lot of ground to cover before sunrise. You two take turns carrying him." The final one said, walking away and leaving the other two with Arthur. The tallest lifted Arthur up off the ground easily and onto his back, using a small piece of fabric to tie Arthur's wrists together around his neck. The shorter one muttered "show-off" before they starting running to catch up with the other figure who was just vanishing into the trees.

Marco stood at the gate to the Academy, shifting from foot to foot. He glanced at his watch for the second time in the last thirty seconds, before looking around the street and the courtyard behind him.

"Where are you, Liz…" He murmured to himself.

Farther in the courtyard, Francis was also looking worried, though he kept trying to hide it from his friends, Antonio and Gilbert. Gilbert had noticed how Francis kept twitching, his eyes flicking towards the gate. Antonio was sadly oblivious to his friend's worries, his mind far away, worrying about Lovina.

The bell in the clock tower in the centre of town chimed half nine and the students lingering in the central courtyard starting making their way to classes and lectures. At the gate, Marco looked back towards the far end of the street where Arthur should have already walked down an hour ago one last time, before turning and slowly walking towards the Academy. Francis was similarly looking around, searching for someone or something, but had to go to his own courses at the Naval Academy.

At lunch break, Gilbert dragged Francis from his class, down the corridor, up the stairs to the roof of the Academy, before stopping in the middle, and turning to face his friend.

"Ok, what the hell is wrong with you today? You've been moping, jumping at every person who comes in the door, I mean, seriously!" Gilbert growled, looking both annoyed and a little worried.

Francis looked like he was going to deny any odd behaviour, but the looks on Gilbert's face seemed to say 'don't you dare avoid this' so he just sighed.

"Arthur didn't show up today…" Gilbert opened his mouth to say something, but Francis cut him off. "And before you say that he's just avoiding me, I haven't even seen him around that Portuguese kid he always hangs out with." Gilbert shook his head.

"He's probably just sick; don't worry so much."

"I suppose it's possible, but I'm sure someone would known and mentioned it." Francis murmured, walking over to the side of the building and leaning against the fence that ran around the rooftop.

"Look, if you're _so _concerned, head over to his house after classes!" Gilbert leaned back against the fence next to Francis.

"I would, if I knew where he lived, Gil."

"You don't? But, I thought you stalked Eyebrows." Francis gave him a sharp look at the word 'eyebrows.' "Ok, I won't call him that, but really, I thought you knew everything about him."

"Well, I clearly don't, do I. And I don't stalk Arthur! I tried, but he always slipped away from me."

"…Still not convinced you're not stalking him." Gil chuckled and Francis glared at his friend. "But, you could ask Marco or maybe even Al or Mattie."

"I don't believe it Gil! You had a valid idea, for once, mon ami! _Do I really need to translate this?_" Francis gave Gil a hug before dashing to the door and sprinting down the stairs, leaving Gil behind on the roof. Gil just shook his head. Francis may be one of his best mates, but that didn't stop him from feeling exasperated by him every once in a while.

Back with Francis, running down the stairs to the third floor before being forced to slow his pace so as not to crash into people in the corridors. He weaved his way around students, before heading down the main staircase to the ground floor. Throwing open the large front doors, he ran up to Marco, who was seated on a flower box's brick surround, staring at the Academy's gate whilst fiddling with a sandwich.

"MARCELO! Où est Arthur? _Where's Arthur?" _Marco jumped at hearing his name shouted across the courtyard. Francis approached and looked at him expectantly. He repeated his question, this time in English.

"Oh…. I don't know. I was going to go to his house after my class ends at 2 pm." Marco looked as worried as Francis felt.

"I'm coming with you." Marco looked at him sharply.

"Why? To mock him if he's sick? Can't you just leave him alone, Francis?" He growled, annoyed.

"No! I would never do that to Arthur!" Francis said in a shocked and slightly angry tone.

"Yes, you would. And you have. You've always taken such _delight _in hurting him! Do you really hate him that much?"

"H-hurting him? I would never intentionally hurt anyone, especially Arthur. Please, let me come with you to see if he's all right." Francis was at the point of begging, a rare occurrence for him, not to mention he was giving Marco such a pleading look, he finally gave in.

"Fine. But one quip—just _one_—and you'll find yourself out the door. Got it?" Francis nodded, a huge smile on his face.

_Author's notes:_

_Right-o! Third chapter complete. I don't really know how long this story will be, so bear with me. Next chapter, I'm bringing in femRomano and femNorway, along with the British Isles brothers (because I love those blokes, especially Scotland- Edinburgh is really beautiful, as is Loch Lomond!) _

_Anyway, thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and favourited this story. Always makes me happy to see who has read the result of me just trying to get rid of this bit of brain crack. _

_Thanks and see you next week!_

_I'm completely serious about this being brain crack. Just an idea I had one day and it wouldn't go away, so I decided 'why not just write it? Maybe that'll get it out of your head!' So I did. It still hasn't gone away. Oh well._


	4. Chapter 4

All characters, except Scotland, Ireland, Wales, and Portugal, property of Hidekaz Himaruya. All credit goes to him.

Ingrid Helgerod- fem!Norway

Lovina Vargas- fem!South Italy

British Isles Family, eldest to youngest:

Iain Kirkland- Scotland

Sean Kirkland- Ireland

Gwydion Kirkland- Wales

Elizabeth Kirkland- England

Peter Kirkland- Sealand

**Chapter Four: Of Protective Brothers and Strange Roommates**

"He lives here? Seriously?"

"Yes…. Why so surprised?"

"I'm not! It's just I never knew where Arthur lived."

"For good reason… You'd stalk him to the point he'd want to kill you."

Francis and Marco were standing on the front porch of Arthur's house, waiting for him to answer the door. Marco knocked a second time. Nothing.

"Ok, I'm worried now." He walked over to a potted lilac bush to the left of the door and pulled a small key from under the leaves. Unlocking the door, Marco walked inside, calling out "Artur! Onde você está? _Where are you?_" He walked further in, through the sitting room, past the stairs, and into the dining room and kitchen.

Francis peered around the each room, looking at the pictures on tables and the walls. Most of them were of people Francis didn't recognise, except for one. The picture portrayed five people, three men, one young boy, and one girl. The five of them all had similar features; similar noses and eye shape, but one feature all four of the lads shared was thick eyebrows. However, the eyebrows and the faces of the men (and one boy) wasn't what drew Francis' attention; it was the girl. She had long dark blonde hair, pulled to one side in a braid, a small slightly pointed nose, and bright green eyes that seemed to bore right through him. She looked younger in the picture than when he had seen her, but the girl was unmistakeably the girl, Eliza, he met with Marco at the Market yesterday. _'Why would __mon petit__ Arthur have a picture of __ma chéri__ Lizzy in his house?'_ he wondered. Even in a picture on the wall, she still seemed to look right through him.

"Francis? Come here." He jumped at the sound of his name and headed to the kitchen, but not before glancing back one last time at the picture of Eliza.

Upon entering the kitchen, Francis found Marco pacing, biting his lip, and looking worried.

"He's not here. I checked his bed, and he didn't sleep here last night." He turned to face Francis. "What's more, he didn't clean up the dishes from our supper last night, so- oh, Deus…_oh god_- I think he's been kidnapped."

"You're joking, right? You must be! Why would anyone want to kidnap Arthur? It's crazy, it's-" Before Francis could finish saying what else Marco's theory was, the front door burst open.

"LIZZY!"

"Hey, Eliza! Rydym ni yma! _We're here!_"

"Come out, wee bairn, and greet yer bràthair, aye?"

The sound of three loud, male voices echoed through the house. The two men in the kitchen froze, turning toward the door. A moment later, one of the three men they heard came into the kitchen. The tallest, a redhead with a cigarette in between his teeth and the same eyes as both Arthur and Eliza, paused upon seeing Marco and Francis.

"Wha' are ye doing here? Does our little sister knaow ye're here?"

"Hey, Iain, I don't think sh-" A slightly taller man came in next. He had dark brown hair, pale skin with freckles on his nose, and dark green eyes, which flashed angrily on seeing the Frenchman in the kitchen. "Oi, Marcelo, what's going on? Where's our sister? And who the hell is that?" He indicated Francis.

Marco opened his mouth to explain, but was cut off by the arrival of the third brother. He looked almost identical to Arthur, except for slightly dark hair and bluer eyes.

"Iain, Sean. I don't think she's here."

"Aye, I think ye're right. Noow, mind taelling me, where is she?" Iain growled.

"Je ne sais pas; il n'est pas ici. _I don't know; he isn't here!" _Marco glared at the panicking Francis who was, at this point, rambling on in French, explaining everything that had happened that day. Which was nice, except that none of the Kirkland brothers spoke French, so when he had finished, all he got in response were blank looks.

"Thank you, Francis. Now, would you care to stick with English, please?" Marco rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed. "We were worried when she didn't show up for classes today, so we came here to see if she was sick or something and just couldn't make it, but when we arrived, she wasn't here. I don't think she slept at home last night, either, because the bed wasn't made. I know she didn't make the bed yesterday morning, because I dragged her out of the house before she usually made it, and she would never voluntarily leave her bed so messy, right?"

The Kirkland brothers gaped. "What are you saying? That someone took her against her will?" Marco paused, considering, before he nodded. Gwydion gasped and raised a hand to steady himself against the wall. Iain crushed his cigarette between his fingers, looking both livid and worried. Sean paled and clenched his fists.

"Wait… I thought we were worrying about Arthur, not a girl." Francis looked between the four men. They exchanged glances.

"Francis, Arthur _is _the girl we're talking about." Marco explained.

Francis started laughing. "You're kidding right? Arthur—a girl? Nice try." He was met with serious expressions. "You weren't kidding…"

"Nay, lad. This is our little sister's house." Iain murmured.

"Then who is Arthur?" Francis asked, a confused expression on his face.

"Arthur is who Elizabeth turns herself into so she can study magic," Marco shifted nervously. "I know about both Eliza and Arthur, along with Alfred, Matilda, her brothers, and Antonio."

"…Attendez _wait_, Arthur is Elizabeth?" Nods. "As in, the Elizabeth I met with you yesterday?" More nods. "Well, let's get on it, then! We have a lady to save!" Francis beamed at the Kirklands, who exchanged quick glances.

"All right, boyo. We're coming wit' ya, though. Liza is _our _sister, so we sure as hell are coming to find her," Sean growled and stormed out of the room.

Gwydion sighed. "He gets like that sometimes; why don't you two go home, pack, and meet us back here in, say… half an hour? Then we'll head out."

* * *

><p>Eliza's head was pounding. But it didn't feel like a hangover, more like she ran into a brick wall headfirst, or something. <em>'Ow… Bleeding hell…' <em>Slowly, she opened her eyes, though she couldn't see anything at first. While she waited for her vision to adjust, she started to take notice of where she was. She seemed to be laying down on something vaguely soft. There was definitely a pillow under her head, at least. She could hear someone or something breathing somewhere close by. Now that she could see somewhat, Eliza slowly began to sit up, wincing as the throbbing in her head grew.

"Bugger all this for a lark…Where the hell am I?" Eliza muttered, tiredly rubbing her forehead.

"You're in the highest room of the Arlovskaya Mansion." A voice, calm, tired, and quiet, spoke out of the semi-darkness to her left, hidden in the shadows from the moonlight coming through a high window. Eliza turned sharply towards the voice. "Don't bother trying to escape; there's none besides the door. We're about a hundred feet from the ground, the door is always locked, and there are far too many people to try to take on."

"Cazzo… stai zitto _a very foul word I decline to translate… shut up. _It's too early to give her a run through, don't you think, Ingrid?" A second voice growled, sounding annoyed.

"Oh, hush, Lovina." The owner of the first voice, Ingrid, moved forward slightly, until she was lit by the moonlight. Ingrid was a young woman with long light blonde hair, which glowed in the moonlight, ice blue eyes, and an impassive expression. "She was just kidnapped; I think she deserves to know what's going on, don't you?"

Another woman stepped forward from the other side of the room and, with a huff, sat down on the foot of Eliza's bed. She was as dark as Ingrid was light and pale. Her hair was a dark brown and fell in thick waves and curls; she had olive skin and sharp hazel eyes. "Fine. I'm Lovina, that's Ingrid. You've been kidnapped, but you probably knew that, assuming you're not an absolute moron. This is the Arlovskaya Mansion and I have no clue where it is." Turning to Ingrid, she said "Happy, now?"

"No, not really. But that'll do." Ingrid smirked ever-so-slightly at Lovina's glower, before sitting down on the bed as well. "So… I'm guessing there's something unique about you; that's the only reason people get taken here."

Eliza shifted nervously on the bed, debating with herself. _'Do I tell them that I'm a witch? Ingrid practically admitted that there was something unique about herself, so I guess it's safe…' _Taking a deep breath, she raised a hand slowly. Summoning certain things, like light, fire or other elements, without using a circle was a skill she had mastered about two years ago, something she suddenly felt very grateful for. _'I'd be useless without my circles, wouldn't I?' _With a slight movement and a murmured word, a small, pure white light blossomed to life in her palm.

"I see. Magic," Ingrid whispered, eyes locked on Eliza's hand. "Mage?"

Eliza nodded. "So, you must use an alias and disguise to study, correct?" Hesitantly, Eliza nodded again. "Interesting. This makes things much easier." Ingrid smiled, a true smile, looking back at Lovina.

Lovina smirked. "Much, much easier."

"This makes what easier, exactly?" Eliza asked glancing between the two smiling women.

"Why, our escape, of course!"


	5. Chapter 5

Hetalia is property of Hidekaz Himaruya

Monika Beilschmidt- fem!Germany (mentioned)

Erik Helgerod- Iceland

**Note**- I am using Timo, not Tino for Finland's human name because Tino is not a Finnish name.

**Chapter Five: Of Lost Rescuers, Plotting Prisoners, and Little Brothers**

Iain, Sean, Gwydion, and Marco were waiting for Francis outside of Elizabeth's house, gradually growing more and more impatient. Iain began pacing about 15 minutes ago and went through about three cigarettes in that time.

"Where is that damned frog?" Sean growled at no one in particular.

"Hell if I know," Gwyd snapped.

"Je suis ici! _I'm here!_" Francis ran up to the fence, panting slightly. He had a pack on his back and a sword strapped on his hip. "Sorry about the delay; these two demanded to come along." He gestured over his shoulder to Antonio and Gilbert, who stood behind him, each with a pack and a weapon.

"Why do _they _want to come?" Sean growled.

"Tonio said that a very close friend of his has also vanished and Gilbert- well, I'm not sure, but I think he's just running away from Elizaveta for a while."

Marco, like the Kirkland brothers, felt his temper growing shorter with each passing minute they spent faffing about instead of going to actually _find _Eliza. So, instead of arguing, he just shrugged, slung his bag over his shoulder, and started walking. He had already done some asking around, asking whether people had seen Eliza around. Several shopkeepers remembered seeing a girl being carried, but it was dark and both the girl and person carrying her were in the alleyways, so they only got a glimpse of them. But they all reported seeing the girl and three others heading northeast, towards the forest. That was good enough for Marco; seriously, how many times do you see three people carrying an unconscious girl through the town on a Sunday evening? In this town, so far, only one that he knew of, and it was his best friend.

"Come on, let's go. We've wasted enough time." Iain was second to follow Marco, his two younger brothers scrambling after, tossing bags onto their shoulders as they went. Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio took up the rear, and the eight of them headed off.

* * *

><p>"Escape? But I thought you said it was impossible to escape?" Eliza frowned at her current roommatesfellow prisoners.

"Not quite. We said it was impossible to escape _alone_." Lovina smirked. "Ingrid's been here the longest and hasn't been able to escape yet. When I came, she had already made five attempts to escape." She gestured at herself and Ingrid. "We have made three more attempts; none successful."

"Why do you think that _I'd _make any difference?"

"You're a mage. I'm a summoner from Norge and Lovina is—"

Lovina interrupted Ingrid. "I'm a gladiator of Roma, like my father and grandfather before me." Ingrid rolled her eyes.

"She calls herself a gladiator, but she's really just a skilled fighter from Italia."

"I've told you before, dammit! I _am _a gladiator! I competed in the tournament in Roma and I won." Lovina snarled, bristling like a cat.

"You mentioned that you're a summoner. What sort can you summon?" Eliza asked Ingrid, ignoring Lovina.

"Usually trolls and spirits, but occasionally faeries. I seem to have found favour with them." That caught Eliza's attention.

"Faeries? You can see them too?" Ingrid nodded. "Seriously? The only others I've known who can also see them are my brothers…Oh lord…" She trailed off. "My brothers will be going spare!" Eliza groaned holding her head in her hands.

Lovina chuckled. "Mio fratellino _brother (diminutive form) _is probably crying and whining to his girlfriend. I really do feel bad for poor Monika sometimes, but she did yes when he asked her out…"

Ingrid snickered. "Oh, brothers… Anyhow, we should probably get some sleep. If we want to even have a hope of escaping, you'll need your rest…um… What is your name, by the way? You never told us."

"Oh, I beg your pardon. I'm Elizabeth Kirkland. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She yawned. "But I'm afraid that being kidnapped has made me rather tired. Good night." And with that, she fell back against the pillow.

Lovina and Ingrid likewise moved to their own beds and, after saying 'good night's and 'buona notte's, Lovina fell asleep.

Ingrid stayed awake long after the other two, thinking. Her mind was racing, plans forming, being dismissed, or expanded on. She couldn't believe her luck, though. After many long weeks trapped and with no real hope for escape, finally things began to look up. _'A mage…now we can finally do some damage to that bitch.' _As sleep finally overtook her, her mind was filled with thoughts of revenge and escape.

* * *

><p>"You've gotten us lost, you twat!"<p>

"No, I haven't. They were seen going northeast; hence, we're going northeast."

"Yes, but we don't know whether they continued northeast, you half-wit!"

"Well, do _you_ 'ave a better idea?"

"No, but maybe, _maybe _we should ask if anyone has, oh I don't know, seen a few men carrying an unconscious young woman through the forest at night? There can't be that many."

"All right. How about you all shut up, yeah?" Gwydion snarled, temper at the breaking point. They had been walking for hours, with Iain, Marco, and Francis arguing almost the entire way. He may love his brother and was fond of Marco, but was a few seconds away from killing them. "Marco led us the way he was directed, so lay off. And while I do agree we should ask, who do you suggest we ask, Iain?"

Iain didn't answer, merely grumbling to himself words most couldn't and didn't want to understand. For the next hour, the group continued on in frosty silence, until they arrived at a small house, at the end of a narrow road heading south, toward town.

A woman sat on the front steps, a book in her hand, though she wasn't looking at it. She wore glasses, had light blonde hair, and seemed to be glowering at the path at her feet. A man stood behind her, murmuring quietly to her.

As the group approached, a boy ran out the door and tugged on the man's hand, asking him a thousand questions. He had dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and rather thick eyebrows.

"Peter!" Gwydion shouted. The boy looked up.

"Gwyd! Sean!" Peter ran off the porch to his brothers. Iain, who had been standing behind his taller younger brother, Sean, stepped forward.

"How ye doin' squirt?"

"Iain! You're back!" Peter looked around, his grin fading. "Where's Liza?" They looked at each other nervously. "Where is she?"

"Peter, lad… She's been kidnapped." He paled.

"Eliza too?" The man and woman had joined them while they were talking and now stood behind Peter.

"Too? What do you mean 'too'?" Marco asked.

"A friend of ours, Ingrid, was also taken. It was only Erik at home when it happened, and he couldn't fight off three fully-grown men." The woman explained. Her voice was kinder and quieter than her stoic, icy expression would lead one to believe.

"Does this Erik know where they took her?" Francis looked between the two adults.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are. I'm not too willing to tell you, without anyone to vouch for you." The man said coldly. "I'm sorry, but I don't know or trust you." Iain smirked at that and looked like he was about to gloat, but Sean spoke first.

"He's a friend of Eliza's from the Academy. Marco seems to think he's honest and I trust him, so I hope that is good enough for you, Timo." The man, whose name was Timo, nodded.

"That'll do, don't you think, Lina?" The woman, Lina, was already walking back to the house. She looked over her shoulder upon hearing her name.

"Ja. _Yes._" Timo smiled brightly and invited the group to the house, to talk to Erik.

"He's been staying with us since Ingrid was taken and Mathias went to find her. Poor kid…" He shook his head sadly.

"Who's Mathias?" Iain spat, still annoyed at Sean for giving the frog clearance to come with them.

"He's Ingrid's self-proclaimed boyfriend. He tends to bother her, but we all know that she really is fond of him, whether she admits it or not."

"Come on!" Peter shouted from the front porch. "Do you want to know where Liza is or not?" Moments later, they were up the steps and into the house, closing the door behind them.

At the table, Lina sat speaking quietly with a young boy, maybe a year or two older than Peter, with silver-white hair and deep purple eyes. He kept twisting and untwisting his fingers, avoiding looking at anything but Lina and the table. Lina took his shaking hand in hers and murmured softly. He nodded and replied, drawing the tiniest of smiles to Lina's stern face. He looked up when Timo sat down next to his wife, noticing the strangers at the door. He looked panicked briefly, before Peter sat next to him. Then he appeared to calm down a bit.

"Sit down, please." Lina motioned to the remaining chairs. Gwydion sat down first, followed shortly by the others. _'Eliza, we're getting closer. Just wait, we'll find you,' _Francis thought, staring at the boy across the table, the first big lead they had to finding Elizabeth. He knew that she would object to being told to just wait, but that was all right. He'd be happy to be chewed out and shouted at, as long as he got to hug her first and see her face as she yelled, it was worth it.

_Author's note:_

_Yes, this is late, I know. I had planned on finishing up editing friday night, but we went to see our new house and discovered that the sellers, who said they'd be out by Thursday, weren't out until past 6 pm Friday. So, we came around at half 5, to find that the house was a mess, and there was rubbish in the yard and- just- __**giant squid of anger!**_

_ Then a roll-top cabinet front came down on my left hand like the guillotine on Marie Antoinette's neck, and my middle finger was swollen and I couldn't bend it. Oh and I also slammed my head when I stood up from packing up my suitcase. So, yeah. Yesterday, editing this chapter was not a , we only got the internet back today._

**On a much more serious note- I heard about the recent bombing and shooting in Oslo, and I just wanted to say that my thoughts and prayers are with the people of Norway and with those who lost someone they loved.**

**Please pray for the families who lost loved ones there, if you're religious and if you're not, please just keep them in you thoughts. **


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